


Power

by TehRaincoat



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 16:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16836304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehRaincoat/pseuds/TehRaincoat
Summary: Azula is only ten years old, but she is the most powerful woman in the Fire Nation...





	Power

**Author's Note:**

> "What if Azula had not been born a bender?"
> 
> basic premise: Ozai wouldn’t have shown much interest in a non bending Azula which means that she spent literally all of her time with her mother learning how to be a lady. 
> 
> I don’t think the lack of bending would have changed her personality all that much, so Azula’s still very good at manipulating and lying and getting what she wants, but she spends most of her time using it in a courtly setting rather than in a military one, but Iroh is quick to notice how intelligent she is, and has himself had a bit of a hand in teaching her.
> 
> Therefore, she’s also still very militarily minded, I think. 
> 
> In this verse Azula would have been the one to go after Aang, but it was in an effort to prove to her father that she was good for something other than military alliances through marriage after being sent to live away in the South with a powerful family until she was old enough to marry their eldest son. 
> 
> I also think that she would have ended up being the one to side with Aang in this verse rather than Zuko, who would have grown up the favoured child, even if Ozai was hard on him, due to his bending. 
> 
> So, without further ado…

Azula is only ten years old, but she is the most powerful woman in the Fire Nation. She is hyper aware of this fact, and the fact that though it grates on the servants and the nobles alike, they must listen to every word that she says, because it is as though her father is speaking when she speaks.

She cannot say that she hates this concept. Even Zuko, proud and aloof as he is, has to listen to her somewhat. He cannot simply dismiss her as he has done in times passed, in any case. Azula revels in it.

Still, her uncle’s words ring in her ears whenever she comes to a clash of wills with someone else. _Be kind to your subordinates. They will want to do right by you_. So she isn’t cruel. She clamps down on the instinct within her which demands that she put each unruly pissant into their place, and she smiles the best that she can (her best impression of her mother), and she insists until they acquiesce, making it seem as though she has given something up to get what she wants from them. They lap it up like dogs.

It is during one such exchange that her father notices her for the very first time.

He’s taken a look at her in passing before, of course. She is his child. He has knowledge of her existence; he was there when she came screaming into the world, covered in blood and viscera, demanding to be acknowledged, nearly killing her mother in the process. He’d taken it as a good omen, she’s heard. He had thought that perhaps she would be a bender even to rival her brohter.

How disappointed Ozai had been when it was discovered that just like her mother, Azula was bereft of the gift of flames in her blood. How disappointing and embarrassing for him to have named her after her grandfather, the greatest bender of his age.

Ozai has never truly forgiven her for the slight. Azula knows this.

Father so rarely forgives any insults to his character. 

This time, however, he _notices_. He stops what he’s doing and watches as Azula wrangles a particularly sticky noble, bending him to her will with a smile and a practiced look of demureness which hardly fits with her personality. The man bows and hurries away, pleased. Father approaches.

Azula turns with practiced grace to bow before him, as she might have done at a formal occasion. She’s flawless, the ideal picture of a royal child. He raises her to her feet with a hand under her chin, inspecting her like one does something of great craftsmanship and quality.

Azula waits.

“Princess Azula, how long have you been doing the Fire Lady’s duties?”

“Since mother went away, your majesty.”

“But you are just a child.”

“I am your daughter, your grace. It is my duty to make your duties more manageable.”

“A servant could have done the job for you.”

“It is my job, my Lord.”

“Father.”

Azula looks up in brief confusion, and then understanding settles across her features.

“Father, it is my duty to perform what mother would have done. I would not wish to shirk my responsibilities.”

He grunts, lips parted as he gazes down at her, something hidden in his eyes that she cannot yet name. He retracts his hand, folding it into his sleeves. He continues to stare at her, and she meets his gaze steadily, waiting. Her small heart hums in her breast.

“A little lady.” A small smirk turns up the right corner of his mouth.

Azula ducks her head, hiding her own smile. Perhaps it’s triumph that she feels growing warm in the pit of her stomach.

“I can see now why your uncle speaks so highly of you. Good work, daughter. I look forward to seeing how you grow from here.”

Azula bows again as her father sweeps away, thanking him quietly. Lo and Li appear from where they’d hidden themselves away at her father’s approach and the old women place a hand each at the centre of her back, grinning ear to ear.

“Well done child,” they chorus warmly, “you have pleased the Fire Lord.”

Yes. It would seem that she has.


End file.
